


Hiccups

by pineappapizza



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Era, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 04:30:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17175941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pineappapizza/pseuds/pineappapizza
Summary: Race somehow managed to give Spot hiccups with a (terrible) joke.





	Hiccups

**Author's Note:**

> Some floofy canon era sprace! I imagine them as the 92sie versions but your pick. My Tumblr is @pineappapizza

Race was at Sheepshead, as per usual, and Spot came over. It was mid-August, nearly a month after the strike. It was also sweltering, and neither of the two had their shirts fully buttoned due to this, which resulted in not-so-subtle staring at each other. Race and Spot chatted aimlessly, occasionally flirting playfully. The gun fired, and the race started. Race was enraptured in it, and Spot was enraptured in him. It was risky, staring at Race like that in public. No one ever messed with Spot though, excluding teasings from Race.

The day was over. Sheepshead was practically deserted, save for a few strangers and Spot and Race. Race was trying to make Spot laugh, and so far it wasn’t going so well. The most he had gotten so far had been a small chuckle. Of course, all the jokes were pretty terrible. Spot picked at his fingers, waiting to see what Race had next to try to get to him. Spot had gotten used to this, it had almost become routine. At the end of the day, Race would tell a few jokes in an attempt to make Spot laugh, and Spot would sometimes laugh very minimally. They both knew the jokes were bad, which just added to the playful effect of their banter.

“Alright, Spottie-” “That’s a _terrible_ variation on ‘Spot’.” “-Lesse if I can get you with this one. A talking horse goes to a bar and finds the manager. The horse asks, ‘Excuse me, good sir, are you hiring?’ The manager looks the horse up ‘nd down and says, ‘Sorry, pal. Why don’t you try the circus?’ The horse nickers. ‘Why would the circus need a bartender?’” Race finished the (horrible) joke with a wide grin, waiting for Spot’s reaction. Spot bit his lip, trying to hold back a proper, full laugh. And he burst into laughter. Race stood watching, obviously proud of himself, but also very obviously in love. He wanted to have a way to capture this forever. _Spot Conlon_ was dying of laughter from the “horse walks into a bar” joke Race had told to other people before, and had only resulted in jokingly being hit with one of the newsie’s caps.

Spot had finally stopped laughing and was relatively embarrassed from breaking his usual stoic attitude, even if it was just him and Race. Towards the end, Race had joined in laughing too and still was. Spot was watching, smiling when he hiccuped. Race froze. A grin spread across his face, wider than before. “Did you just _hiccup_?” he asked. Spot glared, which meant ‘yes’, and hiccuped again. Now it was Race’s turn to laugh so hard his sides hurt. Spot hiccuped again and didn't know how to stop it. Race calmed himself down enough to help. “Alright, alright-” Race rubbed Spot’s back, still snickering. “-Hold your breath for three seconds, swallow your breath, and release. Do it enough and you’ll stop hiccuping.” Spot did as he was told, and the hiccups stopped. The carriage back to Manhattan was starting to appear in the distance. “Tell a soul, Racer, and you’re gonna regret it.” “Whatever you say, Spot,” Race replied. He glanced around, checking to see if it was safe, and pressed a light kiss to Spot’s lips. Moments later, the carriage was there, and Race hopped on the back, waving goodbye to Spot. Spot waved back and headed to the Brooklyn lodging house.


End file.
